PERCY AND PRAWNS

Is Lucy’s cat too big for her? A short story from Angela Lanyon.

More tea,Vicar?” Lucy lifted the pot and smiled at the Reverend Tim sitting beside her.

“No, no, thank you, Miss Parkin.” He half rose to his feet. “I must be getting along, only dropped in to see if you were recovered from your fall.”

“Oh yes, I’m fine.”

“I think we all worry about you living alone in this big house.”

Lucy struggled to her feet. “Oh, but I’m not alone,Vicar, you forget, I’ve got Percy to keep me company.”

“Yes, Percy.” The Vicar turned back to look at Percy curled up on the other end of the dining room table like a large black cushion. The cat opened one orange eye and blinked.

“He’s a British Shorthair, you know,” Lucy was saying.

“I must have told you….”

“Yes, yes, you did.” Many times and at great length, he thought as he followed her to the front door.“A splendid animal.”

Lucy laughed.“Oh dear, I think you’re still suspicious of him. I know you didn’t mean to tread on his tail.”

She paused, leaning heavily on the silver knobbed stick.

“I hope your hand isn’t permanently scarred?”

“I see you need a stick these days?”

“My dear father’s,” Lucy smiled.“He always said it kept away the vampires. I don’t suppose you get many of them in Leamington.”

What a fuss some people make, she thought, as she closed the front door and went to clear away the tea cups. Unsurprisingly, Percy had his nose in the milk jug. She poured the rest into a saucer and took the tray to the kitchen.

Of course, in one way, the Vicar was right, the house was too large but she’d lived here all her life and saw no reason to move. She knew her ideas were old fashioned and she ought to downsize, but if she moved to a bungalow, where would she put her things and what would Percy do without the big garden to roam in?

For 12 years Percy had been her devoted companion. Her sister’s last gift.“They’re a large breed,” she warned, and Percy was a large cat.Too heavy for her to pick up and really too heavy to sit on her knee when she watched the television. But they loved each other and when she stared into his deep orange eyes and he stared

back, she knew it. And when she rubbed her fingers into his soft, thick, black fur it gave her a sense of peace. She knew Percy liked it too because of the deep rumbling purr that erupted from his chest.

“There now Percy, time for your supper. No, don’t push, you’ll have me over again.”

She hadn’t told anyone that was how she’d come to fall. She knew what people would say.Too old. Can’t look after herself. Should be in a home. And worst of all, she should get rid of that cat. Get rid of Percy? She felt quite sick at the thought. And he hadn’t meant to hurt her when he jumped on to her shoulder. Luckily, she’d missed the edge of the sideboard and only bruised her arm on the table. “Lucky not to have broken it,” her cleaning lady said.

“No, darling, I haven’t forgotten.” Percy followed her into the dining room and marched straight to the big old sideboard and started clawing at the bottom cupboard. Lucy reached up and took the key from the shelf and unlocked it.

Prawn crackers! It seemed an unlikely choice for a cat but Percy went mad for them. He was half way into the cupboard before she had the door open. His passion had been an accident.The supermarket delivery service had substituted prawn crackers for frozen prawns. One sniff and he was hooked. Lucy wondered why he enjoyed them so much but decided that he thought he was crunching fish bones. Now she had to keep the cupboard locked or his strong paws would work it loose and he’d have the bag open in no time.

“There we are, Percy. No, you can only have four, save some for another day. No, Percy,” she repeated as he reached up to claw the bag out of her hand.

Quickly she shut the door, turned the key, and returned it to the shelf. Of course, Percy knew where the key was but so far had not found a way of using it. Just as well, since she kept her tapestry wools in there and it took so long to sort them once they’d got into a tangle.

Lucy prepared her own supper. Something simple, egg on toast this evening. She laid herself a place at the table. Not for her, a tray on her knee. She’d been brought up with standards and it didn’t matter how old you were, standards were meant to be kept. Her napkin was neatly rolled in its ring and the brightly polished cruet set winked in the light which hung over the table.

WHAT’S THAT NOISE?

She hesitated. Maybe she should draw the curtains. She didn’t like people looking in and these days, well, so everyone told her, you couldn’t be too careful. So different from when she was a girl; but she was not nervous and the evening was still quite light outside. She could hear the young people going off to the fair in the park. She wished she was young enough to join them. Oh, it had been such fun when she was a girl, even though it was wartime.

She was just settling down to sleep when she suddenly jerked awake. What could have disturbed her? The comforting weight of Percy on the end of the bed reassured her that all was well. Or perhaps not. She certainly had heard something. She heard it again. Footsteps. Percy stirred. Light from the street lamps seeped round the edges of the curtain. She saw Percy’s ears twitch and she reached for her dressing gown. It was a nice thick one her nephew had given her for Christmas, plum coloured, her favourite shade.

There was definitely someone downstairs. This,

Lucy realised, was the time when she should have had the extension by her bedside. Not in case you fall out of bed, her nephew had said, but in case of an emergency. She wasn’t sure if this constituted an emergency but she was determined to find out. Carefully, she crossed the landing and descended the stairs, Percy following silently behind her.

There was light bobbing about in the dining room; not at all what she expected in the middle of the night. She snapped on the hall light and shouted.

“Who’s there?”

The light in the dining room went out.

“Come out,” she called. “I know you’re there.”

Nothing.

Now what should she do? Percy remained a silent, but substantial, shadow beside her. Gripping her stick tightly she flung open the dining room door and switched on the light.

There stood a young person in black jeans and a jacket with a large torch in his hand which he waved in a threatening manner. He had forced open the door of the sideboard and started to pull things out.

“Young man, what do you think you’re doing?”

He had no chance to reply for Percy, excited by the scent of the prawn crackers, scattered on the floor, took a flying leap and struck the man in the middle of his chest and knocked him over.There was a short scream, a groan, then silence.

Lucy advanced, stick in hand. He lay there white faced with a bleeding head while Percy crunched the available crackers. As he fell, he had clearly struck the corner of the sideboard and was out cold.

This kind of thing was not supposed to happen in Lucy’s ordered life so she rang the police.

IT WASN’T ME...

Twenty minutes later, two policemen, who to Lucy’s mind resembled aliens in their protective gear and cameras, were standing looking down at the intruder who was showing signs of coming to.

“I was afraid he was dead,” Lucy whispered, shivering slightly. She hadn’t put on her bedroom slippers and her feet were cold.

“You’ve had a shock, love,” said the older of the two. “You shouldn’t have tried to tackle him.” He looked from Lucy’s stick to the young man who was groaning and trying to sit up, wondering at the same time how he came to be lying face up with a wound on the back of his head.

“Oh, I didn’t,” Lucy stammered. “It was Percy.”

“So you’re not alone?”

“Oh no, there’s Percy. He jumped on him.”

The policeman looked around.

“Over there in the chair.” He thinks I’m gaga, Lucy thought. He thinks I attacked him with my stick. Percy, sated with prawn crackers, suddenly yowled, arched his back and stretched out a large velvet paw.

“I don’t think it’ll do much for your street cred,” said the policeman, pulling the intruder to his feet, “to say you were knocked down by a cat.”

Prawn crackers! It seemed an unlikely choice for a cat...